Chad
by MultipleTrickPony
Summary: A story version of my gameplay of Chad in Binding Blade. Reviews are welcome! Rated T for language and violence. No shippings planned. Hope you enjoy and thank you for reading.
1. Chapter Eight: Reunion

Chad had never liked big and fancy words, so pissed was the one he know chose.

"It's the middle of a battle, Chad, what do you wish to converse about?" As usual, _Lord_ Roy's speech sounded odd coming out a teenager's mouth.

"I-" Chad tried conquering his expression. "-Want to know what you were thinking withy hiring that purple-haired elder!"

"Excuse-?" Confusion so rarely dawned on Roy's face. "You mean Astore?"

"Yes, _Lord_ Roy, I want to know what the hell you were thinking!" He had his fists clenched, his voice raised, and Lugh even shot him a wide-eyed glance.

"Well, _Mr._ Chad, I was certainly thinking you'd be bigger than this!" Off the red-haired lord dashed, leaving Chad to continue bristling. Talks with Roy often left him frustrated.

 _He thinks he can replace me, huh?! I have halfa mind to lea-_

Memories crashed down upon him, fear and loneliness and hunger. Newer ones followed-a safe house, that glowed with joy and people. His friend Lugh, finally going to steal tarts with him, their echoing laughter unable to control at adventures' end. The wise Marcus, strong and fatherly Lance, kind Elen and Saul. Chad shook his head, giving it a soft thump.

 _Then I'll have to prove-no. Risk myself!_ The thought was half grim, half brilliant.

He was quite nervous, hopping from foot to foot, trying to see over Roy or around Marcus. He caught a snatch of dull red armor. Chad gripped his brand new steel sword and narrowed his eyes, turning determined.

"Hey, Chad!"

His friend's sunny voice made him turn. His nose was hit abruptly with a delicious smell full of happy memories.

"Baked tarts!"

"Yup. That's your share." Lugh pushed about half the tarts toward him. Chad gaped.

"Where-where'd you get these?"

"Oh, the meal delivery man gave me extra." Lugh smiled.

Chad swallowed to prevent his oncoming drool. "...Man, they look good…" He ripped his eyes from the tarts to blink wide-eyed at his friend. "I can really have them?"

"Of course." Lugh nodded in a redundant way. Chad began, unsure whether to scarf or savor.

"Man, these're go" He said through a mouthful.

Lugh giggled. It sounded so _natural_. Chad lifted his head from the baked goods.

"What?"

Lugh put a hand over his mouth as his giggles finished. "Oh, sorry." He watched Chad for a few more moments. "It's just that you always look really happy when you're eating."

Chad's expression did not deny this, and he paused.

"I do?"

"Yeah." He could've nodded, but Chad hadn't bothered to look up. "I think that's one of the best things about you."

Suspicion pierced Chad like his own sword, yet it was considerably muffled by his rising heat. He rose, like a hunting dog catching a scent. "W-what the…" He felt his face get warmer and flinched slightly. "I'm not gonna give you anything even if you praise me." He stuffed the last tart in his cloak and stood up. "I-I'll be going now." The stutter caused another flinch on his part. "Thanks. For the food." He turned and walked off a few paces.

"Thanks!" He called again. Lugh muttered something behind him as he nibbled the remaining tart.

Astore seemed quite bored as he talked haltingly to Bors. Chad smiled. Roy had more respect than he thought-or he just didn't want him upset. He shivered slightly despite the warm feeling healing staffs provided and closed his eyes tightly as it washed over him. Stinging, bleeding and flat-out pain faded, then vanished as he opened his eyes to stare at more cold, bluish stone wall. It wasn't bad taste as much as bland and boring.

Chad nodded silently to Elen and dashed off after the others. He heard unrecognized voices and once again tried to see over Roy's head. He resorted to jumping up and down; however, the young lord's red hair drew the eye frustratingly.

"...Then we welcome you to our army!" Came Roy's clear voice, and a female one answered. Chad tried craning his neck in addition to the jumping. Women were uncommon in the army.

"Thank you, sir, but I've heard my brother's here-His name's-"

"WENDY! Is that you?!" Bors hollered. All heads behind the first row turned.

"BORS!" There was bumping and clattering noises, and the crowd surged back. Chad caught a single glimpse-a pink-haired, pink-armored female knight embracing Bors.

He felt a stab of alone and sad. _But...Chad…_ A somewhat high-pitched voice in his head, small and soft, spoke. _Isn't Lugh_ your _brother?_

 _Well_...He had known the answer for a long time, not allowing its admittance. _I guess. I mean, he is. Not-not really, I can't…_

 _You don't have to work alone, Chad._ The voice in his head continued gently. _You can stop-_

"Hey, we're moving."

It was that Astore, and Chad grimaced angrily before trotting forward determinedly. Sure, Mr. Purple Hair may be older, taller, stronger, wiser…

Chad growled inside and increased his pace.

"Marcus, go on ahead, intercept Lilina, she's already weakened." The older horseman nodded and urged on Charido, his swift and strong steed despite his age. Roy's voice stayed calm, steady, strategic. Chad, though he occasionally disliked his young leader, found his eternally level attitude astounding.

"Marcus!" Chad turned quickly to Roy and thought he saw water in his blue eyes, shining faintly from a chink in the brick. "Make-please make sure you bring back Lilina." Perhaps it had been a trick of the dim darkness.

Saul's healing washed strongly over him; he had a more powerful magic object than Elen. Chad inclined his head, then turned to Roy.

"D'ya want me to go after those thieves and get th-?"

"LILINA!" Never had Roy yelled in such a manner-more of a wail that went on too long and died too slowly. Chad shifted nervously. The wail made him want to run, but to stay also, comfort Roy. The army was still and quiet. Even a horse snort or stamp was absent.

Slow, measured clops broke through the silence, like ice cracking ominously. Chad knew who it was, knew what he would say.

"It was a mage, over the wall." Charido, so well trained, stood stiffly in place. Marcus copied him.

"Yes-yes. Let's…Chad, keep ahead." Roy gave him a burning look, and Chad didn't look back at him, despite loudly stifled sniffles.

"Steal everything you can from them, but _don't_ confront either." Roy's voice was almost expressionless, with tiny traces of excitement.

"Why-sir? _Who's_ going to stop them?" Chad tread carefully.

"No one."

Chad raised his eyebrows instantly. "You're...letting them go." Roy had talked to the female thief, a young and scrappy-looking girl with orange-brown hair. Perhaps they were…?

"You're a thief, do your job!" Chad backed off, slightly miffed but knowing the reason. He slipped behind the wall and watched the first thief. Neither foe was moving; the Lycian Alliance had blocked all exits from the chamber. Chad inhaled, readying his feet.

As the 'enemy' shuffled, Chad leapt. With spot-on precision even for him, he cut the top of the bag, grabbed the rest, and ran. Thief was left with some cloth still in his hand, and a small cut stretching across two fingers. Not such great aim in the end…

He dashed behind Marcus, sitting to get his face out of the way of horse-butt. The bag contained treasures whose names he knew not.

"You looking for something?" chad glimpsed Thief's feet in front of Charido, and the stallion stamped his hooves in an intimidating manner. Between that and Marcus making his voice fierce and gravelly, the Thief backed off, then ran, whimpering slightly.

"Thanks!" Chad stood, careful with the bag. Marcus grunted.

Merlinus' blue moustache twitched in surprise at the glittering, gleaming objects, but he hoisted them into the wagon without words. Chad patted Brigind's muzzle nervously. The calm donkey flicked one ear.

Chad had never met a female thief, and as far as he knew Roy was friends or further with her. The idea of stealing from a woman did not appeal to him. _Lord's orders…_

He ducked behind an empty chest and watched the girl-the _thief_ , he corrected himself-pacing. She seemed a lot more active than her comrade, and also appeared more intelligent. Her eyes were strangely large, especially for her face.

Gathering all his nerve, he sprang at the bag she carried, cutting it open. The lady thief's grip slipped, and he dashed.

 _I did-_

He fell on his face, still holding the bag.

"Sorry, but you're not getting off so easy!" She grabbed the sack, noticing his grip on it. "I'm taking this, pal!" She stepped hard on his arm, and Chad was now holding it with only a hand. Desperately he seized the bag in his teeth.

"What the-?" She pulled hard, and Chad's eyes watered at his teeth pain. His remaining hand grabbed something in the bag. Chad was just getting his feet under him when the dragged the bag with much force. He slipped.

"Huh-I bet Mr. Red-hair noble put you up to this." Smirking, she gave the bag a powerful jerk, and Chad fell back as the sack ripped loudly. Lady Thief grabbed the bag with both hands, stuck out her tongue at him, and departed at high speed.

Chad gingerly felt his teeth, then picked up the treasure he'd snagged-what he'd been holding so tightly-and walked off stiffly to Merlinus.

The new sword felt unusually clean and new, and though it was heavier, he still held it one-handed. He hopped back and forth a few times, testing its weight further Brigind brayed and nudged him forward with her snout. Smiling momentarily, Chad dashed to face the red-armored behemoth of a general.

He had never dreamed of fighting alongside Dieck nor Marcus, strong men with scars attesting to their worthiness. Lugh he could believe, though Elen, looking downcast as usual, stood close by. Saul, standing next to Chad, nodded.

"And if he aims for you?" Chad didn't look at him when he said it.

"Then I run. You're the warrior here, _you_ fight." The lighthearted priest always had the shadow of a grin on his face, vying for the curtain to be drawn aside. "Elen will help, she always does."

Chad nodded, though it was more of a required gesture with no value. He looked left; Roy was standing very still. Their armored foe stayed tense. There was a _shing_ as Roy drew out his sword, holding it up one-handed. The rest of him was immobile, though his dirty face had traces of recent, unobscured tear tracks.

Chad jumped up and forward, slashing and hacking. Somehow the large man dodged many, though Dieck and Marcus attacked with looks of concentration, repeating and relentless. Chad heard a gasp behind him and knew Saul was wounded-he could smell it, his throat went dry and nausea rose, but still he went on. He darted to the side with a stumble, the scent was overwhelming. The large lance was close, so close, and there was pain-the blood, the feel, its hot stickiness, its terrible scent-he buckled, he could not carry on-he had been injured worse but now it was all a blur of blood-smell and sword gleams and the claw-points of lances…

The warm feeling felt like a bucket of scalding water poured over his head, repairing as it flowed down. He stood, swerving from light-headedness and leaning away from Lugh's magical fire, which illuminated one side of his face. He held the new weapon-this _Armorslayer_ -and slashed again in a downwards arc perfect to him.

Charido neighed, and Chad thought he had never heard a horse make a noise that inspired nightmares, not like this. Marcus swung his lance in one fluid move. The foe keeled over with his last mutters.


	2. Chapter Nine: The Misty Isles

Chad squinted. If they had to defeat these pirates, save the people and all that, this fog certainly didn't want them to.

He had an uncle, though the man was a dim memory. He looked rather like him-tawny porcupine hair, dark eyes-but with a long, narrow face, a prominent nose, and a lively smile-his eyes bright and dancing instead of Chad's still and stagnant ones.

"You look more like your uncle than me sometimes" An echoing and blurry voice told him, his father's, teasing and high-pitched.

Roy elbowed him, hard, and Chad coughed from the sheer force, afraid for a moment of soiling Roy's cape. Why did he wear it? It was a shade of blue, a deep and watery color, but stained in loudly contrasting ways. Deeper tears ran along the ragged edge. A slight breeze barely fluttered it. It must be heavy from dirt and the other crap.

"We're up, follow-" Roy marched on ahead, and Chad strode easily after. He would normally be a little taller than Roy, but the young lord's boots gave him considerable elevation.

Chad narrowed his eyes at the archer foe ahead of him and Roy. For now, there would be no orders, no shouts and strong faces-just two men fighting side by side, back to back, comrades to their ends. United by the way of the sword, the gleam, the _shing_ and slash. Together through a force, a people for the people.

A second archer slid to face Merlinus, a _whir_ of an arrow and…

Brigind reared up, hee-hawing as though galloping to hell-Merlinus remained unfazed, an alive look in his eyes, his whimsical mustache seeming to grow sinister. The archer, clothed in red as though already beaten, stumbled backward wide-eyed and landed on his rear. Roy caught the fleeing merchant's eye and saluted. The blue-haired cart driver winked back. Chad, smiling, raised his hand haltingly, and Merlinus waved. Brigind brayed and brayed, tearing over the ground as fast, or faster as any paladin's steed.

Chad felt an uneasiness as their forces split. He noticed Lance talking rapidly to Roy, but the red-haired kid kept shaking his head and speaking few words. Feriat, Lance's horse, pawed the ground nervously and swished her tail, head down and looking worried.

Eventually Roy held up his hands and refused to talk, so Lance tossed his head in a way so similar to Feriat and trotted over to his group.

"Roy's group'll be okay, I don't see what he's worried about. He had both Marcus and Dieck." Lugh made a childlike, pouty expression. Chad grinned, trying to conceal it with his hand, but Lugh caught it. Feeling uncomfortable heat and prickliness in his hair, he pulled his cloak up over his chin. Lugh turned around, but his shaking shoulders gave him away. Perhaps Lugh was too easy a laugher sometimes…

In a purposeful manner, group two marched south, Lance in front. Noah, a new cavalier with a seemingly dim-witted horse, stood second. Lugh's face had turned determined, and he was a holding a tome Chad vaguely remembered somehow. Wait...he'd stolen it from that chest in the blue-gray castle...His green-haired friend kept glancing down at the magical book.

Lance was up first, expertly throwing his lance. Cavaliers had a certain way with the spear-like weapon that increased the majesty of something that was otherwise a pointed stick.

Next to Lugh, who was on his right, was a new recruit-a pretty young female myrmidon with dark gray hair. Chad knew her sword was a unique katana and Noah had trained her. She was wearing light green. She had thought she was helping by being on the enemy's side, but had come to theirs to help protect the villages with them. This was all Chad knew of her. Leaning across Lugh and feeling intimidated, he cleared his throat loudly.

"Excuse me, uh-ma'am, what's yer-your, I mean, name?" She gave him a look as if he were a particularly demented bird, with wings instead of a head or talons for a beak.

"It's Fir." She said shortly, without expression.

Chad opened his mouth, nodded, and closed it, backing up a few steps and then leaning back to his original position.

"Suil, what're-?" Noah stared at his horse, who had shoved past Lance and Feriat and was snorting at the foes. One attacked Noah, who fought back with stabs of his own. The bridge was too narrow for another to fight alongside him, and suddenly there were shouts and neighs; Noah's steed had bucked him off and jumped into the water, panicking. Feriat stepped back a pace or two, clearly unsettled by such an action. Lance raised his javelin, about to throw.

Noah was still fighting, but the lance was more difficult to wield on two feet instead of four. With a flash of magical fire, Noah was kneeling, and Chad felt relieved that he could not see the man's condition. The scent that so populated battlefields drifted over and around them, and he pressed his teeth together tightly. Fir gasped and passed Lugh and Chad, making to jump in the water-Chad tried to grab her hand. She sunk so quickly, one arm flailing out-the water was deeper than it looked by leaps and bounds-Chad and Lugh grabbed her and heaved her out. Her face was hatred and relief simultaneously. Lance raised his javelin high above his head and threw. An archer fired. Both hit their targets at the same time.

Noah collapsed, a crunching noise from the arrow that killed him emanating among the thud. The archer fell backward, downed by the javelin.

Fir screamed, and Chad did not know so much could be in one sound.

Lance rode forward, swinging his weapon, and with yells the group charged, stabbing and invincible. Fir whirled through, katana flashing.

They stood, tired, breathing hard.

Chad looked out to sea, beyond the bridge. Noah's horse was gone-swallowed up, by mist or water.

As the enemies poured in, group two knew they would be ready. Fir's sword was bloodied, and a rage was on her face that was too pure to be described by simple words.

An unearthly wail sliced up the air, coming from somewhere in the fog, carrying clearly. Lugh's eyes got so wide they might've burst. He mouthed something. Chad felt he couldn't feel anything else-just the scream. A scream of...sadness. He whipped around to Lugh, who was still mouthing the word, the same thing repeating.

 _Roy. Roy. Roy._

Panic and an infectious terror assaulted him. Someone was dead, someone was dead-it could be anyone there-Shin, a new recruit who shot enemies by horseback, Wolt, the puppy-faced green archer. Elen, who never smiled, Saul with laughter to match Lugh's. Marcus-the unshakable, eternal, gruff old man...it could be Dieck, unsociable but fierce, the swordmaster, Marcus' recent comrade-the quiet knight Barth.

The enemy pirates were still, like them, staring upward, with frightened eyes. Chad blinked very slowly. He walked forward, past Lance, who was in front. Lugh followed, Fir after. The wail was fading, more like crying now, and the pirates shook their heads, squinting, and ran at Chad.

Even in previous battles, he had never felt so conscious. The foes' axes seemed to barely move, and his steel sword talked to him, and he back in a regular exchange. His cloak whispered with every dodge, taunts to them or encouragement to him. The blood on his hands dried, a red glove, and the pirates' looks of surprise, shock even at their death by a mere thief. Never had he dreamed of being so singular, being two but becoming one. They fell, bodies landing at all angles, and sometimes the newcomers slipped on their blood or surprised faces of carved ice expressions...Sometimes a fire whizzed by or dark gray hair and a wind of katana was near. He was a gate with its own traps, sometimes dancing back or forward, his sword his partner.

The steel one even split, a small shattering, and the foe rushed forward-he drew his Armorslayer, plunging it into his adversary-a new layer for his gloves and it blended with his cloak, but still he felt weightless.

"There aren't any more, Chad." Lugh had tapped his shoulder. Chad took a deep breath and felt himself swaying. He fell onto his knees and then forward.

"You did a great job, you really did, Lance was sitting there with his mouth open, Feriat was stunned too-I've never seen her so still, she was basically breathless!" Lugh sounded twice as sunny as normal, and Chad weakly raised his head. His friend's sheer glow of happiness matched that of an inferno or the sun. Lugh hoisted him up, patting the exhausted thief on the back. "We still have to-" His face twisted in sorrow unnaturally. "-Regroup."

Chad thought of Noah and his cowardly horse, of Roy's wail through the fog. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he saw no harm in letting them fall.

They passed the cliff edge, everyone but Saul, who Lugh said had joined their group and was visiting a village back a ways. "He said 'I am not a proper messenger for death' and wouldn't say any more. It was so unlike him…" Lugh said worriedly.

This awakened Chad's feet, and Lugh jerked away in surprise. He was almost sprinting over the sparse, dry golden grass, even though his legs felt sunk with thin daggers.

He gasped as the first group approached.

Dieck was holding Roy-at first Chad thought _he_ had died-in both arms, the teenager passed out but only slightly injured. Elen looked harried and sadder than normal, Shin was wounded, slung over his horse, who was dutifully following the group. Wolt and Sue were red-eyed. Chad realized the rest looked similar, their faces shiny or stiff. The whole group was huddled together, looking vulnerable, old, and scared.

"He went on a rampage after Marcus-passed." Dieck's voice was tightly controlled. There were many more rips in his clothes than when Chad had last seen him. "And Barth is dead, he didn't take that-" A sob escaped him. "-Sitting-" Another, he was breaking. "-Down-" He knelt, defeated, unable to say more as he finally cracked.

"Dieck." Lance's voice was thick and choked. "Saul has a silver sword. He will give it to you. Attack their boss. Lugh will finish him off."

Chad could not see Dieck's eyes when he nodded, and he knew, as he too joined the chorus of tears, whimpers, sobs, and wails, he would not see the others' eyes for a while, not until the song was done.


End file.
